Nothing special, no named constellations.
Just a fuzzy view of a tree and a few stars glittering in the night sky.
A fire crackles warm and low enveloping a few square feet around us
forming a make-believe world.
Years have passed
and the only way I can tell is how I ache when I wake
and how blurry things get more quickly without rest.
I am content knowing we see the same sky no matter where we are.
.
There is no secret behind the light,
no magic potion to keep us upright,
no answer that would satisfy.
But the fire crackles when we give it something to burn.
